Note to Self: More Poppers

Back before the cicadas came I went to Yellowwood on a fine warm afternoon. It was supposed to be clear for the next twelve hours. I elected to leave my rain jacket in the truck. No sooner was I a long way from the truck than storm clouds began building. I kicked all the way back and got the jacket.

No sooner had I kicked out into open water than the rain came. A boat nearby gave me something to think about. Brilliant. I could easily pack an umbrella along for just such an occasion.

After it cleared off the fish seemed to be peckish. They took a number of different streamers.

At one point I decided to dig deep in my tackle boxes. I found two old poppers--I mean old--left over from when I last lived in Indiana. What the heck--I tied one on.

That was fun. Note to self: more poppers.

I crossed to the west shoreline and tied on a big bushy deer hair fly--originally a mouse pattern but now a bass bug. My intention was to fish something too big for bluegill and just right for hefty bass.

No good. The bluegill still managed to fit the fly in their mouths.

So when life gives you bluegill you fish out a lovely evening catching bluegill.